


The Lady of the Wolves

by silvease



Category: Fate/Prototype
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvease/pseuds/silvease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>rp thread with tumblr user rosaxui blahblahblah i'll edit this after ten years or something</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lady of the Wolves

"Hnn."

"A rare sight to see you walking without a leash on hand, pulling some dog."

"Ho… am I being found out ? I don’t need a leash to keep that one in check, however." Eyes of crimson narrowed in its gaze, lips quirked into an amused grin. Not at all fazed by the unannounced presence. "What can I do for you, King of Heroes? Are you in need of a company?"

"For certain! And found out? Suggesting you were holding onto the effort of concealing your presence." Her tedious excuse of a smirk was paid with a ferocious one, eyes devouring each skin they could touch, glance upon. "Nay. I passed by to see what the madwoman was up to, if not lecturing her hound."

"Heh— for a King, you sure pay attention to unnecessary details."

But he was right, she wasn’t trying to hide from anyone, be it Servants or Masters. Why would she? A fight is always welcomed. Though, she preferred to take her time on it a little longer. Her time to enjoy this was limited after all.

"I’m merely enjoying my walk. You’re free to join me if you wish. Have to disappoint you that the hound isn’t with me."

"You sound alarmed, Magus. A King owns free reign– be it for pleasure or blasphemy." Something as irksome as a walk should be quick to receive a turn down. Except, for some reason so drunken, he decided it would be interesting. Misaya Reiroukan herself is interesting. A walk should be grand."Oh, that savage mutt. I did not come here to play with him or toss him a bone for the night. I have my own reasons. What of you, Master of Lancer? Limitless life must be your holy wish. Nothing is impossible with that omnipotent device."

"Limitless life? Hah! Do you really think my wish would be something so mundane? I do not desire immortality, King of Heroes.” Sound of laughter echoed at the back of her throat. The way the corners of her lips pulled up into that amused smile dictated her enjoyment to know of the golden Archer’s words. A chuckle once more fell from her parted tiers. Weight shifting from left to right, a hand placed to her hips in a posture of confidence. He really had no idea, did he? "This curse might limit my time, but don’t go assuming just because my time is limited, I 'd wish to stay in this world for longer than needed."

But he was right on one aspect. The taste of iron welling up inside her signaled her deteriorating health. How she cursed it, this fate she was bestowed with. Her chains locked down the moment these command seals appeared on the back of her neck. Counting down to her own demise. How disgraceful.

"As for what my real wish is...”

A step forward was taken, form bent over for her expression to lean closer to him. A taunt. The lady of the wolves do not fear death. After all, it will come to her. What’s of it if it’d come sooner?

"We’ll see when I get the grail, wouldn’t we?"

> _Adorn my death.. Lancer. Should my time run out before I could get the grail. Should this curse take me and cause me to suffer unsightly… end my life. End it before this person could see me in my disgraceful state._
> 
> _I wish I could tell you my feelings before my time is up._

"Your confidence rivals mine, though I cannot tell if it's worth dismaying thoughts." A gesture of acceptance, of merely desiring to observe her towards the path she already took. "Sadly, I have no mind to hand you nor your Servant the Grail."

"As expected from the King.”

Was it a mockery or genuine words of comment? One would never know. The Lady of the Wolves was difficult to predict, after all. If she would allow anyone to even read her at all. Then again, the unnoticeable shine in those crimson optics of hers spoke some sort of respect she had for the Archer.

"Who said anything about you handing it to me ? This is a war." Words rolled smoothly off her lips. It was unfortunate. She knew her fate was decided long ago. The clock was ticking when these marks inched themselves onto her skin. "What’s fun in that if we don’t fight ? It’d be boring, wouldn’t it, Archer?"

Her smile grew in that delightful hint of challenge. The thirst to fight and win was too damn strong for her to ignore. She didn’t want anything handed to her. If she wanted it, she’d fight for it.

"But tell you what. If I win,  I’ll tell you something. A secret. You wouldn’t believe it."

Of course not. He only has eyes for one.

"What’s your wish then, King of Heroes?"

> _If only  I’m alive long enough to witness it all._

"You dare challenge a king, woman?"

She was mad, truly. He knew it from the very moment she had summoned her Servant- that shrill and genuine dominance. Sadly, he does not fancy to be under it.

"You amuse me. Unfortunately, I own everything already."

"We’re in a war, aren’t we, Archer? I believe the challenge had already been issued."

A twisted smile curved her lips, that enjoyment of seeing blood and murders, the tortures which came not only by man but also women. How she wanted to make it known of fear despite being bound by this rotting curse. Like these filthy marks could stop her from enjoying this. She was ranked the second for a reason. Her power bowed down to none.

Not even this curse from her own father!

"Owning everything, hah! Quite a statement to make."

Yet, the scoff resonated at the back of her throat spoke of amusement than anything. It was to be expected. A King wanting to possess all. Having too much, to her, was boring. She only wanted to inflict horror to a few. All is unneeded, only some would do. But worthy ones.

"I prefer quality over quantity. That is why, I do not care for immortality. Carving my own fate then I shall die once the time comes, with no regret."

Mad was the word to describe her. Sadistic was another.

Only if he knows who this black heart belongs to. Heh. It’d be priceless.

If her time extended long enough to fulfill that, that is.

"Not a statement but a fact, Master of Lancer." With a twist of his fingers, he replied. "This world belongs to me. If I say so in such a way, that includes you."

Her defiance was welcomed. He'd be around to witness her catch her final breath. 

"Hah! What a confidence.”

Once again, it was more amusement that laced her voice, a hint of competitiveness brimming from both her posture and the tone she carried.

A King would always be a King. She could tell, however, he expected her to protest at his assumption and claim of not only the world but herself as well.

Normally, she would. Normally, to make such a claim would warrant her digits around those column of neck and a shine of rage pouring from those ruby optics. Yet, the corners of her lips tugged into a delightful grin, dripped with bittersweet tinge utterly saccharine. Oh, the irony of reality.

> _Only if you knew the truth, King of Heroes. Perhaps it’d be you who was struck with shock._

Surely, it’d take something of a miracle to surprise a King. But this fact would be a disaster all on its own.

Her lips plastered with that corrupted smile. Be careful what you wish for.

"Claiming things you have no idea of. Are you prepared for the consequences that might follow of owning a nightmare, King Gilgamesh?"

> _Are you sure you’re prepared, Golden King, of having an absolute horror falling in love with you ?_

Matching his own vanity... how troublesome. Not quite rare for a woman, but unique in its own way.

"'I am not borne of royalty for naught. 'sides..." Gilgamesh smacked his lips. "..a nightmare owning a nightmare is nothing short of usual."

"They say, be careful what you wish for."

In this case, she had a feeling he probably would regret even saying that, but the wicked smile on her lips was a challenge.

The way he phrased it, calling himself yet another nightmare. While she knew of his power and destruction, the Master hardly think he was one. Then again, bias. When she was someone who enjoy the screams of those shivered in fear of her presence, he seemed to love the battle than the torture itself like she did.

"The war has yet to be won, King of Heroes. Don’t be so hasty in concluding it just yet.”

While she was tempted to let him know _that_ , it wouldn’t be fun that way.

Her sadistic side shining through with the cold smirk on her lips. How she wished to have her own life end by his hands. But he didn’t need to be bothered with such knowledge.

"I bow to no King, Archer."

Not yet. Dominance was still something she enjoyed and wouldn’t give up so easily.

Jaw caught with a rough hand that was stained with blood of countless bodies, keeping her stare at him. It crawled down and wrapped around her neck, fitting.

"See for yourself, Magus." A faint smirk. "Your Hound's head will surely find a home."

The sudden grip didn’t elicit the usual response of normal humans from the Magus. If anything, other than the gasp choked out from her lungs due to the impact of the rough handling, the way those lips quirked into a twisted grin made it seem like she was used to it.

Ironically, she was.

Choked hold, the forceful hand wrapping calloused digits around the column of her neck was replied with a faint chuckle. The pain was nothing. She had experienced much worse than this. The curse itself was way more excruciating than anything one could ever imagined.

Head tilted up and sanguine globes met with his, returning that smirk with one of her own. Own hand raised and lithe fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist. It wasn’t to pry his grip away either. It was just a firm, silent hold. Not protesting, nor surrendering. Neither dominant, nor submissive.

"You have to keep a tight grip on what you desire, King of Heroes."

> _Or it’d so easily slip away from your grasp._
> 
> _There are only two options._
> 
> _His spear will bring me victory — or end my life._
> 
> _Only two fates._

Head inched further, both glare refusing to let go. Crimson pairs dancing among the silence of the piercing night. Parted lips only a kiss away from her mouth, yet he pulled away.

"It would not do if you were to perish before the curse takes you."

Sanguine optics clashed in a silent battle of ego and confidence. Sure enough, the King of Heroes and Lady of the Wolves weren’t going to back down on their own reign and ground that easily, if ever.

Silence continued as two bloodied hues stared one another down. So brimming with dominance and that need to possess. Their lips barely but a breath away from one another. Thick. Burning against the parted tiers that almost touched.

Almost.

A distance regained between the two, breath lingering within the tension that filled the air itself. Sounds of heartbeats seemed unusually loud with the wordless atmosphere which was severed by the sound of his voice. Thrill ran up her spine, eliciting an entertained chuckle to echo from the back of her throat. How exciting.

"You won’t see this curse taking me anytime soon, Archer. Sorry to disappoint you."

A taunt? Perhaps, but also the truth. For she would never let herself behave disgracefully. She prefer death than having anyone witness her in such a state.

> _I’d rather die by the tip of Gae Bolg before anyone, let alone you, see me like that._

"Perhaps a different curse will come to violate your body... and you might find it in yourself to like it anyway. But it will win. Oh, it will."

"Ho… a different curse.. You say?"

Now that had got her attention. Shifting her weight from right to left, her heel clicked against the pavement underneath her feet in an interested notion. Wet appendage dragged itself slowly from one corner of her lips to the other, moistening them with that clear glint in those crimson optics. Like a wolf being taunted with a juicy piece of meat dangling in front of their razor-sharp fangs.

"Is that a challenge rolling off your tongue, Archer?” voice dripped dangerously like honey, yet it was drugged with deadly poison coating every syllables that was uttered.

Another shift of her body, pivoting that lithe figure into a smooth turn. Her every movements were fluid, so calculated and precise like she had planned for it to be ultimate piece of art. A predator in its highest form. Wolves were at the top of the food chain, after all.

As did the lions.

"I have relics of this curse over my form and back. No other violations would scare me." eyes narrowed, smirking. Delightful rubies. "I’m not the one to lose in a fight. Not without leaving my marks. I _do_ bite, King of Heroes."

"The charm of a violent woman is tempting on its own, however,” Archer observed her lips, bit his own as he did so. "It would result in rascal anger from your Servant. That’s implying I concern myself with his fangs. Yours appear more sharpened.”

"Finding beauty in violence ? That’s quite expected of you, Archer. Loving yourself a challenge, aren’t you?"

She saw it, the way those crimson hues of his were trained upon her lips, and she stared at the way his teeth sank into his own bottom lip. Tempting, he said, was it meant to be him or her ? That statement. But it didn’t matter. The hold he had around her neck was responded with her own grip to his wrist.

"Ho… tell me, King of Heroes." The title rolled off her tongue smoothly, perfectly so if not as though they were carved from those moist lips. "Which one are you concerned over more?"

Syllables drawled intentionally, letting it sink as those ruby optics narrowed dangerously.

"His fangs or mine?"

"Do you really think you are in the position to talk in such a way, Master of Lancer? You are quite the human heart connoisseur after all.”

And once again they crawled right up to cup her jaw, prying her mouth open with his mortifying fingers just to see the set of teeth she’s been baring to him for a long time now. Are they as sharp as her words? As sturdy as her resolve to dominate everything and everyone she sees?

With a faint chuckle, he released her and kept both hands to his hips. He was done admiring the view for tonight.

"What of the mongrel’s fangs? They are groomed for war. I welcome his bites if he’s able. You, on the other hand," Archer tilted his head on the side and heaved a deep sigh. "You are worthy of being marred. I fancy yours better."

"Human heart connoisseur? Am I now?" her voice was casual, how she feigned ignorance on what he was implying but they both knew just how much she possessed fascination of the subject.

Mouth parted all too willingly as his digits pushed past them, letting her fangs be shown and the tip of it grazed his fingers, if the way her wet appendage traced them sensually didn’t distract him from that.

His chuckle and release were met with her smile and a faint hum echoing briefly at the back of her throat.

Resuming her own composure, her head tilted to accommodate his gesture, sanguine orbs piercing his with a grin decorated her lips, and her tongue once again dragged over her own tier.

"Marred, you say. Don’t forget that I am already corrupted and marked by the curse. My body is no stranger to being tainted." her lips quirked further in a deep smile. Challenging. "Unless you’re talking about tainting me with your color, then that’s a completely different matter. Is that what you desire, King of Heroes?"

"I see that look in your eyes. You are no stranger to vehemency."

Good grief that he didn’t do anything to wipe the remains on his hand, almost as if accepting her will to paint him with her own colors. The madwoman knows how to play her games – in a way that appeared unfair, a sense of cheating touch laced with her every movement, never playing by the rules.

What is a man to do when being enticed away like this? Induced and promised a better night one could possibly have? The answer should be obvious. One would take what they must to evade the incoming boredom. It is a poison that nobody wants to consume. Not even the Master of Lancer wishes to die in such a manner.

Then, it’s only right.

"Believe me, I desire too many things in this world." A lie. He already owns a massive amount. Only a few strikes the mind, knocks upon the heavy door and brings down the attention to the ground. "We share the same interest. Why not spend the night with me? I have no interest in killing you any time soon, Misaya."

"Heh— can’t hide anything from you, can I?"

Though her words implied she was being found out, she wasn’t exactly trying to hide that side of herself from him. If anything, she wanted him to be aware of her capability. Of the prowess she wasn’t going to hold back with him.

Was he able to detect her fascination with him? Something that went deeper than just mere interest, or did he assume it to be merely attraction she harbored for him?

The list went on, though as expected as it was, the sound of her name on his lips was… oddly pleasant to the ears.

"Oh, do you?" she rolled her tongue, boldly taking a step forward to once again shorten the distance between them. His proposition proved difficult to resist.

"I’d think you had nothing to desire for you’ve owned everything valuable in this world. I guess I’m wrong, Gilgamesh."

The sound of his name uttered in surprisingly sweet tone, dearly, almost a tender voice, treasuring. Did he catch that?

A hand reached out, fingertips barely brushing his golden strands, "The night is yours if you promise to tell me what is it you desire, Gilgamesh."

She could get used to calling him that.

"Humor me. You are not the type to get caught."

It was her intention, he knew. It’s a behavior similar to his, which explains his natural understanding of it.

Steps were taken once again, the magus pushing herself closer to where he stood with her beguiling eyes still locked with his tempted crimson. It is inevitable for teeth to once again sink itself upon wet brims. It excites him so, the unpredictability of the woman. He has yet to realize her hold on him for he’s too allured to notice the thorns that surrounded the bloodied flower, merely focusing on the splatters that decorated the top, never paying attention to the sharp points, how it dug itself to his skin and decided to call each tainted place some newfound home.

In a way, she wasn’t wrong. Even with the distraction, he’s not ignorant enough to not pick on the fact she is asking for his wish upon the Grail. He held no desire to conquer it to grant one of his longings, but perhaps there is one he would like to become true. Though it is something he could accomplish even without that wicked omnipotent device’s help.

"Would you be able to comprehend it, I wonder?" It is a blinded resolution more than anything. Anyhow, he leaned on her hand. "I pray for the extinction of gods."

He was right.

The Magus couldn’t say exactly if this was joy rising within her that he was able to see through her despite that measly cover up she made of an attempt. If it was under normal circumstances, she would have felt that pride of hers being trampled upon, yet, in front of him, why was it she felt elation that he was able to tell things about her?

Perhaps he didn’t even try to understand her, but he did. Him, of all people.

"Maybe not..." she let the words linger upon her tongue, corner of lips quirked up slightly, almost went unnoticed. "Or… perhaps.. I don’t mind being caught by you. I pray to no gods."

Sharp, unalterable tone of voice followed his revelation almost instinctively. No gods had her faith for she was cursed. The way he leaned in to her hand, it prompted the second Master to align her palm to his cheek, cradling his defined jaw carefully. Such foreign touch for the hands that were used to inflict pain and torture.

Thumb made a silent caress over his cheek, "I couldn’t care less if they were all destroyed. They’re nothing to me." Crimson narrowed quietly, voice slipped before she was aware of it. A tone barely above a  whisper, "I’d rather kneel to a _King_  than a god.”

Don’t mind? Now that is quite forward of her to say.

Well, he didn’t mind her honesty. It’s a breath of fresh air in comparison to women who played the demure role, the ignorant and the submissive. His taste in women is scattered, but he could admit to finding nothing like her. She is the bluest sun, the darkest moon. Though evidently different from the rest, she owned an enthralling light that had him collecting his knees, if he had one at all.

"My, you know how to flatter a man." In a manner that tickles all kinds of fancy, one that doesn’t degrade nor was said with ironic tendencies. "It is an enjoyable thing to do, let me tell you."

He did nothing to remove the hand off of him. Normally it would be rewarded with a swat, some cruel defense mechanism he had developed for a time. Instead, arm took a route around to take ahold of her head, pressing it close to his before pursing his lips and tenderly brushing them against the skin of her ear.

Just how well he liked her and her wicked beliefs. They are messed up, if at least compared to the common human understanding.

Regardless, he’s messed up as well. In a way, they are a pair.

"Your promise has been fulfilled." More like _his_ promise, but it was her desire from him. "Come with me. I will give you a reason to kneel before me."

"I speak only truth, not flattery, Gilgamesh."

The cherubim had never been someone who was reserved about her thoughts or feelings.

Daring would be the word to describe her, upholding the title of Lady of the Wolves, the second Master displayed nothing short of their traits of pack leader. An alpha female she was, fangs so unbelievably sharp yet bowing to only one. It wasn’t her intention to flatter, however, heart of a wolf she possessed, no matter the winged curse plastered all over her back.

They say all wolves will chase the moon, yet this alpha had her crimson hues upon the golden sun.

A heart refused to surrender to all but one.

A hitch of breath she didn’t calculate, however, head tilted unconsciously to accommodate the fleeting touch of his lips, warm breath caressed her skin in a way so foreign to the sadistic woman who was so used to agony.

Fingers thrust through his golden locks, kneading the back of his head only to have her lush lips placed to his own ear, her fangs barely made a graze to the shell of it, spilling burning air in an ardent response. Fingertips twirling his shining strands, free hand now fleeting over his collarbone.

"I'll make you _yield_ in return."

The wolf wasn’t after his head. No, not something _that_ simple.

A heart of a King was the only thing worthy.

Yield? Him? He would never, but the idea had been enough to have him gnaw the insides of his cheek in utmost, heated anticipation.


End file.
